The Flawless Man

Caroline didn't even realize how odd it was to feel so tense around Fanmuir, a young college student. Why was she reacting this way?

As she washed the dishes, the memory of her earlier missteps filled her with embarrassment. She muttered to herself, "That annoying kid! It's all his fault for making such irresistible cocktails and delicious dishes. He must've done it on purpose to see me lose my composure!" The thought made her scrub the plate in her hands with more vigor.

Still, she couldn't suppress the smile that crept onto her face. "But honestly, who would've thought he'd be so talented? If Chloe and I could enjoy meals like this every day, life would be perfect."

Meanwhile, in the living room, a Steinway piano—often referred to as the "prince of the piano world"—sat elegantly near the staircase. Steinway pianos are celebrated for their unparalleled craftsmanship and rich sound. From selecting the perfect wood—free of knots, holes, and imperfections—to the meticulous year-long process of assembling its 12,000 parts by hand, each Steinway is a masterpiece. A model like the B-211 Spirio Record, priced at around €210,000 in Paris, remains a coveted instrument for pianists and collectors alike.

Fanmuir's keen eyes immediately recognized the piano's exceptional quality. The wood was flawless, the craftsmanship exquisite. Having immersed himself in the study of music since entering the human world, he had yet to play such a fine instrument. The temptation was too strong to resist.

He instinctively sat down on the bench, letting his fingers hover lightly over the keys. In his mind, melodies of humanity's great musical classics began to unfold, like pages of a well-loved book.

With his photographic memory, it only took a glance for Fanmuir to understand the piano's structure and mechanics completely.

Among these compositions was Beethoven's Für Elise, a masterpiece steeped in romance. Legend has it that Beethoven composed the piece as a gift for his beloved Therese on her birthday. Though he never married, Beethoven's lifelong pursuit of love and his romantic spirit imbued this timeless piece with emotion and longing.

Beethoven was one of the rare composers Fanmuir truly respected, and it felt natural for him to play Für Elise. The moment his fingers touched the keys, a cascade of beautiful notes flowed effortlessly, as smooth as a gentle stream. If Beethoven himself could hear this performance, he would undoubtedly consider it the most perfect rendition of his masterpiece. The music was breathtaking—elegant, tender, and filled with emotion, touching the very core of the soul.

The enchanting melody filled every corner of the villa. In the kitchen, Caroline paused mid-task as the music reached her ears, her feet unconsciously guiding her toward the sound. When she saw Fanmuir seated at the piano, fully absorbed in his playing, his fingers dancing gracefully over the keys, she was utterly mesmerized. Never had she heard music so beautiful, so flawless, so moving. The seamless harmony of the notes, combined with his masterful technique, was nothing short of miraculous. This young man had brought her so many surprises—what other wonders could he reveal?

Though the music had ended, its emotional echoes lingered in the air, leaving Caroline lost in the tender, dreamy atmosphere it had created. She only snapped back to reality when Fanmuir approached her.

"Could you play a few more pieces for me?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with longing. "I love Richard Clayderman's music."

"With pleasure!" Fanmuir smiled and returned to the piano. As his fingers danced across the keys once more, the music that filled the room was so captivating that Caroline found herself completely immersed in its beauty.

From where she stood, Fanmuir's focused figure seemed to blur, transforming into the prince she had dreamed of as a young girl. In her mind, she became the Cinderella to this prince. The moment felt magical—so pure and so joyous.

But reality intruded. Fanmuir was still just a young man, while she was a single mother with a five-year-old daughter. Between them was a chasm she dared not cross. Caroline sighed quietly. As someone who had been burned by love before, she knew better than anyone that, in a fleeting moment of vulnerability, she had fallen for someone far too young for her. The thought terrified her.

The sound of applause broke the silence as Fanmuir's performance concluded. Caroline clapped enthusiastically, using it as a way to mask the storm of emotions swirling in her heart.

Unaware of Caroline's inner turmoil, Fanmuir smiled warmly, clearly delighted by her reaction. He stood, placed his right arm across his chest, and bowed gracefully. "Thank you for listening!"

As she gazed at him, so charming and brilliant, Caroline felt overwhelmed. She needed time to process everything—the music, the emotions, the man before her.

"Thank you for giving me such a wonderful birthday," she said softly, her voice warm but tinged with melancholy. "But I'm feeling a little tired now and would like to rest."

Though Fanmuir was perplexed by her sudden change in mood, he respected her wishes. If Caroline needed time and space, he would grant it. With that, he quietly took his leave.

"Alright, have a good rest then!" Fanmuir said as he stood up to leave. Just as he was about to step out, he suddenly remembered the birthday gift he had carefully prepared for Caroline. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the exquisite pink perfume contained in a crystal bottle that he had created specifically for her.

"Caroline, happy birthday!" he said warmly, presenting the perfume to her.

The crystal bottle, painstakingly crafted by Fanmuir's unique powers, was a masterpiece of unparalleled beauty. Its elegant, seamless design gleamed like a gem under the light, creating a visual impact that was nothing short of stunning. But it wasn't just the bottle that captivated—it was the perfume inside. Its fragrance, pure and enchanting, carried a subtle yet irresistible allure, a scent so heavenly it felt as though it belonged to a higher realm. Caroline found herself utterly mesmerized, her gaze fixed on the bottle in her hands. She could hardly fathom how such perfection could exist, much less be given to her as a gift.

Holding the crystal bottle tightly, Caroline's eyes followed Fanmuir through the window as he walked away, his figure gradually disappearing into the distance. Tears, like delicate pearls, began to cascade down her cheeks, each one carrying the weight of emotions she could no longer suppress. At that moment, she felt a profound sense of helplessness and longing. How she wished she could stop him, call him back, even for a fleeting moment. But thoughts of her age, her responsibilities as a mother, and the unbridgeable gap between their worlds clawed at her heart like cruel reminders.

For the first time, she truly hated herself for letting her youth slip through her fingers. And for the first time, she realized just how deeply this young man, walking further and further away, had made a place in her heart. Lifting the crystal bottle, she pressed her lips against it in a gentle kiss, her voice trembling as she whispered to herself, "Forget this foolish feeling. You and he… you're not even from the same world."

As Fanmuir walked away, the faint sorrow in Caroline's eyes lingered in his mind, replaying like a haunting melody. Though she had hidden her emotions well, Fanmuir's sharp perception left no room for her to mask her true feelings. He couldn't understand the sudden shift in her mood. She had been so lively and cheerful just moments ago, basking in happiness as they spent time together. Yet, somehow, the warmth in her expression had been replaced by a melancholy he couldn't quite grasp.

"Why am I overthinking this? Maybe she just remembered something unpleasant from her past. Women's hearts… they're like needles in the depths of the ocean," Fanmuir muttered, shaking his head as he quickened his pace. Yet, even as he walked further, his concern for Caroline lingered in his thoughts, refusing to fade.

Caroline, meanwhile, had always been a remarkably strong woman. Without her resilience, she could never have raised her daughter alone or managed to turn her bar into a thriving business. But the challenges she faced had also taught her the value of clarity and self-control. Once she came to terms with the impossibility of any romantic future with Fanmuir, she resolved to bury those feelings deep within her heart and treat him sincerely as a younger brother. After a night of wrestling with her emotions, she emerged with her composure restored. Though a quiet ache still lingered in her soul, she refused to let it show.

By the next morning, Caroline had regained her usual lively demeanor. She laughed and chatted with Fanmuir, her radiant smile making it seem as though nothing had ever been amiss. Seeing her cheerful and carefree attitude, Fanmuir finally felt at ease. He let go of the concerns that had weighed on him the night before, convinced that whatever had troubled Caroline must have passed like a fleeting storm.